


Sunday Morning

by Keroseem (Papervolcano)



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papervolcano/pseuds/Keroseem
Summary: Waking up is easy to do





	

As views to wake up to, the glitter and dust of space in Helius had to be pretty high rating. Drifting slowly in high orbit above Elladen as her windows slowly shaded back to transparency from sleep-mode blackout, Sara felt pure contentment. 

The heavy arm draped over her waist was certainly helping. Liam had pulled her close in the night and his breath was now warm against her neck, her back pressed against his chest. "Mornin', you" Liam's voice is slow and weighed down with sleep, and the warmth in his tone sends sparks down Sara's nerves

"Mm, didn't mean to wake you" Sara said, twisting her head around to kiss him good morning. It's an awkward angle, but worth it. Kissing Liam is always worth it

"Been kind of awake for a while, just drifting", Liam's hand skims down Sara's side, coming to rest on her hip. Not a bad prompt to roll over fully with what little grace she can gather so that they're both lying on their sides facing each other, and o kiss him again, her hands exploring all she could reach in langourous, lazy sweeping touches. 

"How are you feeling?" 

"A little victimised by whatever Peebee had in that bottle, but I'm good - you?"

"Mm, I'm good, avoided the experimental stuff. You need looking after?" The smile on her face makes it entirely plain what she means, and Liam returns the grin, rolling onto his back and taking her with him to straddle his hips. He knows what he likes, and Sara laughs at the sudden movement as his hands move again, one against her hip to steady her, the other cupping her breast, teasing at her nipple. It's like he flipped a switch, taking the steady pulse of desire she just about manages to keep banked and sending it immediately to 11. His body is also waking up, and she laughs again with the joy of the morning, leaning down to kiss him, one hand on his shoulder, pinning him down. Sara's breathless with how goddamn handsome he is, golden starlight illuminating his skin, catching in his hair, and she has to lean back to drink in the sight. 

Leaning back also means she can take him in hand, watch him gasp and strain against the arm pinning him to the mattress. She could be really cruel here, tease him until he's a writhing mess - and as appealing as that image is, she'd be tormenting herself as well and that's not on her newly formed agenda for the morning. 

Nor his, apparently - he surges up, and it's only her newly sharpened reflexes that keeps her from the indignity of losing her balance. Instead, she falls backward just enough for him to sit up properly and pull her into another of his scorching kisses, his hands tight against her back, her neck, fingertips brushing into her hair. It's moments like this, lost in the sensation of him that remind her she really is the luckiest woman in the universe.

Also the greediest - she wants more. It's an effort of will to break away, to push him back into the pillows, but not to rise up, position herself over the head of his dick, ready to sink down, to fill herself with him. "May I? She asks, and the noise he makes is a delight, halfway between a gasp of desire and a moan of frustration, eyes screwed tight closed as he nods, only barely holding back from rolling his hips and thrusting into her

She's still a little sore from last night, and the sensation, the press of him as she sinks down is glorious, refiring those well used pathways in her mind and body, and she'd think to joke, to pause, to hold him at the top of this hill before they truly start to race to completion, but the idea flees her mind before it's even half formed. 

Instead, there's just him, the sensation and the feeling as she rises and falls, setting a pace she knows they both adore, not too fast, not too slow. His thumb finds her clit and goes to work, knows exactly the right way to touch her, tease her and she braces herself, focuses on that glide, each thrust perfect and hitting just where she needs, rolling her hips in a matched rhythm, a pleasant burn starting in her thighs, lost in the moment of him.

What sends her over the edge is feeling Liam approaching his own, ragged breath and ragged movements, lip caught between teeth. She comes apart, gasping, quivering, shaking, her rhythm stuttering, and he curses, cries her name, and she can feel him pulse and fill her. 

Sara collapses down beside him, whining as she moves to let him slip out before pillowing her head on his shoulder, drowsy with post-orgasm lassitude. Liam pulls her close as their breath evens out, pulses settle. "Love you", she says, as though it were inconsequential, an aside, rather than the all-consuming fire of her heart, and hears him murmur the words in return. They've hours before they have to surface from their room. Time enough to drift in warmth and starlight and each other.


End file.
